


song of you

by girlonthelasttrain



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Friendship, Implied Sexual Content, Long-Distance Relationship, beta canon references, homophobia-like stigma, slightly better communication than canon, tags will be added as new chapters are posted, the worms got anxiety
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-25 13:30:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19746730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlonthelasttrain/pseuds/girlonthelasttrain
Summary: They stared at each other without talking, and Jadzia was forced to confront how close they’d been to throw everything away. The accusations they’d flung at each other in a heated moment had come dangerously close to break their fragile connection, and their doubts clearly ran much deeper than Jadzia had guessed. It was a dare between her and Lenara now, to discover if they were strong enough to withstand time and distance and stigma; a step into the unknown.“I think,” Jadzia said in the end, “that we can only plan for the best case scenario.”Jadzia and Lenara try to find middle ground while traveling the breadth of the Alpha Quadrant. Canon divergence from the ending of "Rejoined".





	1. Deep Space 9

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for [sapphicstartrek's fanworks exchange](https://sapphicstartrek.tumblr.com/post/184510427220/its-that-time-of-year-again-for-our-fanwork), based on [yedrindax](https://yedrindax.tumblr.com/)'s prompt "alternate ending to Rejoined". It got... a little out of hand, but I plan to have it all posted very soon!
> 
> Huge thanks to [ThatAloneOne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatAloneOne/pseuds/ThatAloneOne) \-- her suggestions while reading this first chapter were, as usual, invaluable. (All the remaining mistakes are entirely mine).
> 
> I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge the incredible patience of the many people who put up with me while I ranted about this fic or read the excerpts as I excitedly shared them: most of all the people on my discord server (you know who you are) and [isloremipsumafterall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isloremipsumafterall/pseuds/isloremipsumafterall). A special shout out goes to my wife, who has been an inspiration for this fic in so many ways and, as always, an amazing listener.
> 
> This fic contains references to the DS9 books, most notably "[The Lives Of Dax](https://memory-beta.fandom.com/wiki/The_Lives_of_Dax)": [Torias](https://memory-beta.fandom.com/wiki/Infinity)' and [Jadzia's](https://memory-beta.fandom.com/wiki/Reflections_\(DS9\)) stories in that collection especially shaped up my characterization of Lenara and Jadzia for this fic.

Jadzia stared at the chess board on the low table in front of her. No matter how hard she tried the pieces refused to be anything but figurines of carved wood, their relative position meaningless.

“Your head is not in the game tonight, old man.” Benjamin sounded more resigned than irritated, his words only an acknowledgement of the situation. It wasn’t the first time Benjamin had had to gently interrupt a chess game in the last few weeks, anyway.

“I’m sorry.” Jadzia covered her face with both hands, barely stifling a yawn. “I think I should probably head back to my quarters.”

At first it looked like Benjamin would protest, but he eventually nodded and said, “Alright.”

They both got up from their chairs, neither making an effort to put away the chess board. Maybe tomorrow the next move would appear to Jadzia as obvious as the slow spinning motion of the station around its axis; or more probably, they would need to restart the game entirely and hope that Jadzia’s listlessness would allow her to play an entire game for a change.

“Try to get some sleep,” Benjamin said, as he walked her to the door of his office. She knew he was worried about her, so Jadzia dutifully nodded and bid him goodnight.

The station had grown quiet around Jadzia since the day Lenara had left. People tended to talk in hushed whispers around her, and she found herself avoiding crowds. Walking around the deserted corridors to her quarters this late at night suited her just fine; Benjamin wasn’t entirely wrong, she wasn’t getting much rest. It was difficult to sleep, when most of her dreams were visions of shuttle crashes, plasma fires and people turning turning back to her to get inside an airlock never to be seen again. Not even spending hours defeating holographic klingons in the holosuites had made a significant difference.

Once the doors of her quarters closed behind her, an unexpected tone drew her away from her gloomy thoughts.

“You have one new text message,” the computer voice supplied.

Jadzia ran to her coffee table to grab her PADD. “Display message on my personal PADD.”

“Unable to comply. The text message is encrypted.”

“Right,” Jadzia muttered to herself, then in a louder voice: “Computer, run decryption algorithm L1 on the text message with key Four - Nine - One - Nine - Five - Epsilon, then display the decryption on my personal PADD.”

“Working.” Jadzia remembered to exhale. “Decryption complete.” The message was a short one.

As the words began to appear on the screen, a disbelieving, giddy grin spread on Jadzia’s face. She had to read it twice before she was able to understand one word of the message. Once its meaning was clear, though, Jadzia couldn’t stop smiling.

_ I hope you didn’t give up on me. _

* * *

They were staring at each other on opposite sides of the room. Jadzia wasn’t sure how this visit to a convalescent Lenara turned into a verbal sparring match, but it was clear that their future was being decided here. The emotions running high between the two of them weren’t exactly helping matters.

“I’m not like you, Dax,” Lenara said. “I don’t have a little Curzon in me to tell me to be impulsive, to ignore the rules.”

Jadzia bristled; way to make Lenara’s own cowardice somehow her fault. “Can you really walk away from this? From us?” Just thinking about being separated again made her ache all over. “After all this time we’re together— please don’t throw that away.”

“I don’t want to!” Lenara was almost shouting. “Maybe I need more time, maybe if I go back to Trill for a while, think it over— I could always come back later.”

It was like being doused with a bucket of ice-cold water. Going back to Trill— being swallowed entirely in the same culture that dictated that the two of them never interact beyond polite small talk—

“I wish I could believe that,” Jadzia said, defeated. If Lenara boarded that shuttle the probability of her coming back again was almost nonexistent. “Ultimately it comes down to this: if you feel about me the same way I feel about you, you won’t get on that transport tomorrow. And if you do leave I think we both know you’re never coming back.”

Lenara’s eyes were wide, like the word had physically hit her. When she didn’t immediately reply Jadzia stepped aside, wanting to be anywhere but in Lenara’s quarters. Before she reached the door, however, Lenara’s voice made her stop in her tracks.

“So my only choice is staying here with you, giving up everything I’ve ever known and worked for and condemning my symbiont to die, with no certainty that what we have will even last— or forget about you? You’re making this even more unfair than it already is, Dax. These can’t be the only possibilities I have. I refuse to accept it.”

The words stung. Jadzia clenched her fists before turning around to face Lenara.

“You know as well as I do what’s the attitude about reassociation on Trill. And even if you were still willing I’m not sure they’d even let you come five light years near me if you go back.”

“I would hope that I’d still retain some of my freedom and agency even back home.”

“People will argue that your agency has been muddled by feelings you shouldn’t have let resurface,” Jadzia retorted.

Lenara bowed her head, her shoulders slumping. She sat down on the same chair she had occupied when Jadzia had entered the room earlier, when the galaxy had seemed a lot less complicated. The silence between them was tense, and Jadzia had to stifle the impulse to run to the door again.

“I don’t want to leave you,” Lenara said, not making eye contact. “But what you’re asking is too much. Even if I stayed I’ll probably end up resenting you, and that’s not what I want.” She paused. “In the end it’s never only a matter of feelings.”

Jadzia gaped. “How can you say that? You were the one who told me you couldn’t change how you felt about me.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Lenara closed her eyes, her expression appearing genuinely regretful. “I made our lives so much more complicated. But I couldn’t pretend to be fine, I’ve never been very good at pretending. And my feelings haven’t changed. I just wonder—” She looked up at Jadzia. “What do we have? I’m asking honestly. Is what we know of Nilani and Torias enough to guarantee that we won’t grow apart from each other down the line?”

Jadzia frowned. Part of her wanted to scream, to shout it would never happen, how could Lenara doubt the way Jadzia felt about her, but — Torias wasn’t the only one who could have a say about this. Curzon would laugh and caution her that nothing really lasts, especially relationships. Audrid would say that building a family is everything, but requires commitment and consistency from all sides. Torias died young, younger than Jadzia was, so all he had to offer to her is how he felt. And she would always carry his regret for not listening to Nilani’s justified fears.

Jadzia took the time to inhale and exhale, and walked up to Lenara to be by her side again. “I don’t know what the future could hold for us,” she admitted.

Lenara looked at her sympathetically. “For all the supposed wisdom of the joined, I don’t think any of us can really predict the future.”

Jadzia sat down on the chair beside Lenara, clasping her hands together tightly.

“It’s not fair. That we have to balance our happiness against the prospect of exile.”

“I agree,” Lenara said softly. She reached out to cover Jadzia hands with her own. “And believe me, I wouldn’t have said that even just a week ago. I didn’t come here expecting to have my entire worldview turned upside down. But it’s what happened, and it’s all because of you and what I feel about you.”

Jadzia looked at her. “But that’s not enough for you to stay.”

“I’m sorry.” Lenara eyes were shining.

“I am beginning to see your point,” Jadzia said, resigned. “I won’t beg you to reconsider if you have so many doubts. Even if I changed your mind it wouldn’t be a good start for a relationship.”

Her words were more bitter than she had meant them, so she took Lenara’s hand between her own. Her skin was cold and clammy, and a pang of guilt hit Jadzia’s chest. Lenara was still recovering from radiation poisoning, and here Jadzia was, making things difficult for her.

“What do you want to do?” Jadzia asked, her voice little more than a whisper.

Lenara looked up at her again, blinking in confusion.

“I mean it. What do you think we should do? We’ve only talked about what we won’t do, so far.”

“I—” Lenara closed her mouth, then frowned. “I did not have time to think that far ahead, not with Bejal begging me to go back home with him until you showed up.”

Jadzia squeezed Lenara’s hand lightly. “I can imagine.”

“We had so little time together,” Lenara began hesitantly. “There’s still so much I want to know, to ask you. I would like to spend more time with you in the future, if that was possible, and if it’s something you want as well.”

“Of course I want that,” Jadzia replied. “More than anything. More than following rules I don’t agree with anymore, anyway. I’m guessing you mean to meet somewhere without getting caught, don’t you?”

Lenara nodded.

“I think we can come up with a way to do that, if we’re careful enough.” Jadzia looked down at their joined hands. “The question is, do you want this enough to willingly break the taboo? Will you still want to see me after you go back to Trill?”

Lenara’s face turned somber, her eyes set in a determined look. “You’re right, it won’t be easy. But will  _ you _ trust me enough to take the path that will allow us to see each other again? Can you wait for me to find a way to get back to you?”

They stared at each other without talking, and Jadzia was forced to confront how close they’d been to throw everything away. The accusations they’d flung at each other in a heated moment had come dangerously close to break their fragile connection, and their doubts clearly ran much deeper than Jadzia had guessed. It was a dare between them now, to discover if they were strong enough to withstand time and distance and stigma; a step into the unknown.

“I think,” Jadzia said in the end, “That we can only plan for the best case scenario.”

* * *

Jadzia had not been sure that either of them were acting when Lenara had left the station. There still was the distinct possibility that Lenara would get second thoughts, or that she would wait too long before taking her chances at contacting DS9 and Jadzia would give up on her first. So as Lenara turned away from her and disappeared into the airlock corridor Jadzia was actually crying in earnest, only able to see the many ways things could go wrong. She only had a decoding algorithm and an encryption key to hang on to, and those meant nothing without a message from Lenara to translate.

She hadn’t needed to pretend much with her friends, either, in the weeks that had followed. A blessing in disguise, really, she thought wryly in her occasional good moments.

All of her dismal mood disappeared instantly as Lenara’s decoded message came into view on Jadzia’s PADD.

_ I hope you didn’t give up on me. The journey home on that shuttle was one of the hardest things I have ever done, but I haven’t forgotten the things we’ve said. There is so much I’d like to tell you, but I’d rather keep this short and to the point: I’ll be on Rigel V soon for a conference, and after that I’ll be staying three more days on Rigel IV, alone, starting on stardate 49724.3. Keep an eye out for people who might follow you or your trail; there might be some attention on us. _

_ I miss you. _

The only other thing in the message was what looked like an address in the Rigelian city of Thursvyl and a keypad code, but Jadzia’s attention was entirely on what came before that.

They had agreed on exchanging short messages with only the essential details, but those last three words lodged themselves in Jadzia’s chest, warming her up like a sunny day on Bajor.

Lenara had come through. They could meet, not too far away into the future. She had taken a risk for Jadzia, a big one considering her warning. Lenara missed her.

It was like the gravity plating had failed under the floor of her quarters. Jadzia wasn’t floating though: it was just the weight of the uncertainty that had lifted from her, the way reading those words allowed her to breathe.

There were steps she needed to take soon: memorize the message and delete any trace of it, ask for leave around the stardate Lenara had indicated. Tell Benjamin why she was asking for leave; he probably wouldn’t be happy to hear it, but she knew he’d eventually understand. Consider what to do to make herself untraceable. Tell everybody else about it! After keeping her hopes and fears to herself for so long it seemed almost impossible that she could just  _ talk _ about it.

It still stung, that Lenara had refused Jadzia’s offer to remain with her on the station. It would’ve been so much easier if they could just be together, but —  _ I miss you _ .

“I miss you too, so much,” Jadzia whispered, eyes closed, cradling the PADD to her chest.

* * *

“Sorry I’m late, there was an emergency,” Julian said apologetically, grabbing a chair from a nearby table and joining Jadzia and Kira on the second floor at Quark’s.

“Don’t worry, we’ve been waiting for you,” Jadzia replied.

“The suspense was becoming unbearable,” Quark added, approaching their table while carrying a tray above his head. “But who am I to complain when it multiplies the orders like this?”

Kira rolled her eyes as Quark put a glass of springwine in front of her. “So what is this all about?” she asked, turning towards Jadzia. “You’ve been rather mysterious all day, and I’m wondering whether I should start worrying.”

Jadzia grinned, barely able to contain herself after sitting on the news for so many hours. “I asked you here because I could use your help. Yours too, actually, Quark.”

“Mine? What for?”

Jadzia looked purposefully at the three people in front of her. “I got a message last night. From Lenara.”

She indulged in observing everyone’s wide-eyed reaction as they processed the information. Quark carefully laid the tray on the table and sat down on an empty chair, his eyes not leaving Jadzia’s face.

“Let me get this straight,” he began. “She left you, and now she’s writing to you?”

Kira and Julian said nothing, but by their faces Jadzia could tell that the same question was going through their heads as well.

“There’s a bit more to that, actually, and I’m sorry if I didn’t say anything about it before,” Jadzia said. “Before she left, Lenara and I had agreed to write to each other in case we’d found a way to meet again. I wasn’t sure she’d actually write me back; I was afraid— that if I told anyone it would just end up in disappointment. But she actually did, so now here I am.”

“So you’re going to see her again?” Kira asked, breaking into a wide smile.

Jadzia nodded. “If everything goes smoothly, yes, in a few weeks’ time on Rigel IV.”

“I see,” Julian said, not very convincingly. When Jadzia raised her eyebrows at him he explained further: “I guess I just didn’t expect to hear this. You were so miserable lately, I honestly thought you two had—”

“—broken up for good?” Jadzia interjected, and Julian reluctantly nodded. “I wasn’t actually sure myself. When she left we weren’t exactly on the the most stable of grounds.”

“From what the klingon implied, it was a very heartbreaking goodbye,” Quark added.

Jadzia gaped at him. “Since when are you getting your gossip from Worf?”

“You’d be surprised what prune juice can do to a man.” Quark shrugged, and Jadzia didn’t bother to hide her smile at his joke.

“Anyway, you all know about the taboo. This whole situation hinges on the fact that Lenara and I must not be discovered by anyone on Trill, for any reason.”

“Wait, is this why you went to speak to the Captain today?” Kira inquired.

Jadzia nodded. “I needed to tell him, and have his approval if possible.”

“And he gave it to you?” Julian asked.

“Yes, well. After a bit of grumbling because I always make him worry. And a lecture on the ramifications of trying to circumvent the laws of a Federation world.”

“That sounds harsh,” Julian replied.

Jadzia shook her head. “Only a reminder of what I’m about to face.” She looked at every one of her friends before continuing. “That’s why I need your help. I want to find a way to meet Lenara without being discovered.”

“Sure,” Kira replied without hesitation. “Do you already have something in mind?”

“First of all I need to send a reply to Lenara. I wouldn’t want to alert station security when I’ll send an encoded message on a random subspace frequency.”

“I’ll tell Odo about it.”

Quark huffed and crossed his arms in a very convincing display of childish annoyance. “Why is it that she can ask for Odo to turn a blind eye, while I am stuck with his constant surveillance?”

“The difference is that Odo doesn’t trust you, and neither do I,” Kira deadpanned.

“Please,” Jadzia interrupted, trying to appease both of them, “I still need everyone’s help. In fact, I wanted to ask you if you knew of any ship that could be heading towards the Rigel system around stardate 49724.3,” she said, addressing Quark.

Quark narrowed his eyes, considering, and Jadzia could almost hear the mental math that her request had prompted. “I don’t know, Dax. It’s not very often that a ship goes from this side of the galaxy to a faraway place like Rigel.”

“I forgot to mention, you don’t have to pay me the 10 slips of latinum I won at Tongo last week.”

“Very generous of you. But I still don’t know—”

Jadzia stifled an half-amused, half-exasperated sigh. “ _ And _ I’ll pay my tab in full, first thing in the morning.”

“I’ll consider it a breach of contract if you don’t,” Quark replied, leaning back on his chair with a pleased smile. “If I remember correctly, there should be an Yridian cargo ship transporting iridium ore to Rigel more or less at the time you mentioned.”

“That sounds like it could be my ticket.”

“I can’t guarantee that they’ll have you,” he said, raising his hands defensively. “And it might not be the best of ideas, if you mean to be discreet. It’s not every day you hear about a Trill traveling alone on ore freighters flying across the Quadrant.”

“The first problem is easily resolved with enough latinum. And as for the second one—” Jadzia turned towards Julian. “This is where my requests to you comes in. I’d like to find an effective disguise to pass as human, even using a transporter.”

Julian frowned. “You mean to go on Rigel while pretending to be a human?”

“At least while traveling, yes. Hiding my spots from sight is easy enough, but I’m afraid that fooling even a Mark V transporter will require a little more effort.”

Julian brought a hand to his chin. “Assuming you’ll encounter mostly outdated transporter technology, it might be possible to mask the life-sign of your symbiont from indiscreet eyes.” He looked up at her. “It won’t be without risks, though.”

Jadzia nodded. “We can discuss this more when you have some free time. I’m sure the both of us together can come up with a satisfying solution.”

At the corner of Jadzia’s eyes, Quark shook his head. “You’re willing to spend a lot of latinum and time just to smuggle yourself to a planet at the edge of Federation space.”

Jadzia looked at him. “Your point?”

“It seems like a lot of trouble to go through for a _female_ , and one that you weren’t even sure would hold up her part of the bargain.” 

Jadzia opened her mouth to reply, but was beaten to the punch by Kira leaning threateningly over the small table. “The fact that  _ you _ don’t understand it doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a good reason.”

“Alright alright, it was just an observation to make sure Dax knows what she’s getting into.”

Kira backed off, seemingly appeased. Julian was smiling at the exchange, which Jadzia took as a sign that he was warming up to the plan as well. And as for Quark—

Jadzia splayed her hand on the table, a smirk tugging at her lips. “See it this way, Quark: this just a complicated bid to obtain something I really want and which is, incidentally, very illegal where I come from.”

Quark was still skeptical. “Rule of Acquisition number 94: ‘Females and finances don’t mix’.”

“That’s just what you always quote when you lose a round of Tongo to me,” Jadzia retorted, earning a glare from the Ferengi. “How about this instead, Rule of Acquisition number 22: ‘A wise man can hear profit in the wind’. I’d be very foolish to ignore this opportunity after it presented itself against all odds, don’t you think?”

“Rule number 3: ‘Never spend more for an acquisition than you have to’,” Quark said, leaning with his elbow on the table.

Jadzia grinned, enjoying the battle of wits despite Quark’s callousness. She had the perfect rebuttal, anyway: “Rule number 62: ‘The riskier the road, the greater the profit.’”

“I guess you’ve really got your mind set on it then.” Quark leaned back, and shrugged. “As I said, just making sure.”

“Are you sufficiently convinced now? Will you give me your contacts on the cargo ship for Rigel?”

“As soon as you pay your tab. In full,” he added, when Jadzia sighed dramatically at his conditions. “Now, I’ve got other customers to attend to,” he said, standing up and retrieving his tray. “Dax, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Major, Doctor.”

And with that, he was off down the stairs to the first floor of his bar.

“I don’t know why you involved him,” Kira said, not bothering to check if Quark was out of earshot. “I wouldn’t trust that promise as far as the end of this table, let alone all the way to Rigel.”

“Well I couldn’t ask Benjamin to borrow a runabout for this, and anyway I really don’t want to be spotted getting there the same time as Lenara.”

“I hate to admit it but Quark had a point,” Julian said gravely. “This seems like an awful lot of trouble to go through. Are you or Lenara being watched that closely?”

Jadzia lowered her eyes. “Lenara thinks we could be.”

“I thought government surveillance wasn’t condoned by the Federation,” Kira observed.

“It isn’t. It’s probably not the Symbiosis Commission at all— but if someone had suspicions of reassociation they could decide to gather proof to denounce us, for example by sending a private eye to follow one of us. And I wouldn’t put this past someone like Lenara’s brother.”

“That’s awful,” Kira grimaced.

Julian had an equally horrified expression. “Do you have direct experience of this? You were Head of the Symbiosis Commission in the past.”

“Audrid never had to sanction anyone for reassociation, but I still know how it goes. Someone denounces two joined Trills, the Commission gathers any available proof, then a closed-doors trial ensues.”

“A closed-doors trial,” Julian repeated, rolling the words in his mouth like they were a foreign language.

Jadzia nodded. “To minimize the scandal, or at least that’s what the Commission believes. Anyway it always ends in the same way: the accused have the choice to renounce any future contact or they will be banished, either off-world or in some remote location on the planet, completely isolated from Trill society. And then of course their symbionts die with them.” She paused, brushing her palms on the surface of the table. “I would like to avoid going through any of that.”

“I see your point,” Julian said, looking away. Jadzia could tell he was trying to not shudder.

Kira made a noise of distaste. “That sounds pretty much like Cardassian justice.”

“I have no other way to see Lenara,” Jadzia continued, “and I know it’s a bit wild and far-fetched, but—”

“I completely understand,” Julian replied. “I’ll help. I’m sure we can come up with something to deal with the transporters.”

“And you can consider any request for leave approved,” Kira added, smiling warmly.

This display of support from her friends made Jadzia giddy, and a sudden shyness like she’d not experienced in years almost made the words catch up in her throat. “Thank you, both of you. I don’t think I could do this alone.”

“You can count on us,” Julian said.

“Always,” Kira added.

* * *

The chime went off as Jadzia was struggling to word an appropriate reply to Lenara. While she had a clear idea of the steps involved into making the message untraceable, trying to fit all she wanted to say in just a few sentences was like finding herself in front of a puzzling astronomical phenomenon. She had already put off replying for two days; she didn’t want to make Lenara wait more than that.

Jadzia leaned back on her couch, and hoped whoever was behind the door would be able to distract her.

“Come in!”

The door opened to reveal Kira, who was carrying a rather voluminous tome under her arms. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said, stepping inside Jadzia’s quarters.

“You know you never do! I was just trying to write a reply to Lenara but—”

“Oh, if that’s the case I can come back later. Or tomorrow even, since it’s already late.” Kira was wide-eyed apologetic, her free hand flailing in embarrassment.

“No please, stay. Really. I need a break anyway, I found out that written correspondence is not my forte.”

Kira chuckled. “Then what I brought—” she lifted the book in front of her with both hands, “— may be of help. At least it might give you some inspiration.”

“Oh? I didn’t know you owned books, by the way.”

Kira gave a puzzled look as she sat down beside Jadzia, but then comprehension dawned on her face. “For a moment I thought you were implying that I’m illiterate. But no, we’re not like you Federation types, on Bajor we haven’t left physical books entirely behind us.”

“Whoops.” Jadzia cringed. “I phrased that badly, sorry. But now I’m curious to know what this is about.”

The cover of the hardbound book on Kira’s knees was battered and worn at the angles, the spine almost threadbare, but Kira handled it with a care that Jadzia had witnessed coming from her only very occasionally.

“I’ve had this book since I was a young girl,” Kira explained, fondness obvious in her voice. “A gift, from a camp elder who had taken an angry little kid under his wing, for a time.”

“It sounds like this elder had a good eye.”

Kira smiled back at Jadzia at that comment. “Or maybe he just tried to keep me out of trouble a little longer by making me read old classics. Either way, this is one of my favorite stories, and I think you might find it interesting. It’s about two lovers who couldn’t be together because they belonged to different _ d’jarras _ , and everything they did to overcome the obstacles that kept them apart.”

Jadzia stared, not quite knowing what to say. “Well that’s certainly— relevant.”

“I’m sorry, if this is overstepping my boundaries I can just—”

“No don’t worry, I’m just surprised! It’s very sweet that you thought of me.”

Kira ducked her head. “I— well—”

“Tell me more about the story,” Jadzia said, reaching out to touch Kira’s right forearm.

“Alright,” Kira replied, taking a deep breath. “The protagonists are Prylar Keha Nimu, a famous scholar and philosopher who lived in the Rakhantha Province more than eight centuries ago, and Eumia Kora, who was a painter. Her illustrations were famous all over Bajor. They belonged to different  _ d’jarras _ , but not the kind that couldn’t interact with each other. Keha taught in one of the biggest monasteries of Rakhantha, and Eumia at some point went there to study; one of her teachers was Keha. They fell in love, and started having an affair in secret.”

“I’m guessing that teacher/student situation wasn’t the biggest issue here.”

Kira chuckled, and waved a hand. “You know, old stories. When I was a kid I thought it was very romantic. And to me it spelled out loud and clear that the  _ d’jarras _ were unfair to so many people.” Kira shook her head. “Everything under the Cardassian Occupation was so grim, but at least us Bajorans could stick all together regardless of our surnames, you know? I’m still not sure I understand why such divisions were there in the first place.”

Jadzia tilted her head. “I get the feeling you’re trying to tell me something.”

Kira’s eyes widened, and she looked away in embarrassment. “I would never presume to tell you that there’s something wrong with Trill society—”

Jadzia squeezed Kira’s forearm in reassurance. “I’m joking. I’m not sure I understand it myself, why reassociation is seen like such an unnatural thing on Trill. I used to believe that too; not anymore though. Now I just wish I could forget about my homeworld entirely so that Lenara and I could be together.”

Kira looked back at her sympathetically. “Well I hope this book will help bide your time, at least. It’s a collection of letters between Keha and Eumia, both before and after they were discovered and kept separated. It’s— beautifully written; I’ve read it so many times. Shakaar was always giving me a hard time for carrying this book in my pack everywhere, it was so heavy and large. But it gave me hope, you see, because at the end Keha and Eumia managed to reunite and be together. All their conflicted feelings and longing and suffering hadn’t been for nothing.” Kira was absentmindedly stroking the edges of the cover with her fingers. “It’s a small wonder that this book survived at all, with all the rain and hasty retreats it went through.”

Jadzia’s chest swelled with affection, and she regretted poking fun at Kira only moments earlier. “Now I’m downright honored you decided to share this with me, Nerys. Thank you.”

“It’s— it’s nothing really. If the story of these two women can bring you some comfort, like they did to me, then I’m happy.” Before Jadzia could reply, Kira hastily continued: “Now, I know you can’t really read Bajoran, so I brought a translation as well— but there are some beautiful illustrations in this book, and I wanted you to see them. They are reproductions of some of Eumia’s works she made at the same time she wrote the letters.”

There was so much Jadzia wanted to ask Kira about her own history with this book, and exactly  _ what _ kind of longing she had found so captivating, but it wasn’t the right moment to pry.

“Would you show them to me?” she asked simply.

Kira smiled, and nodded. “Of course.”

In the end, Kira read a couple of the letters out loud for her, and even with the filter of the universal translator Jadzia agreed that it was beautiful prose. While Kira read, her voice getting stronger as she settled into the familiar text, Jadzia had to keep herself in check to not be overcome by emotions she could not easily name. Here Kira was, offering a piece of herself only because she thought Jadzia might find it relatable. While Jadzia had never doubted her friends, Kira was going above and beyond for her. Whatever her reasons for this were, Jadzia could only hope to match her sincerity from now on.

After Kira wished her goodnight, Jadzia took the PADD where she’d started writing the reply to Lenara.

_ Message received, I’ll be there and I’ll be careful. I was so glad to hear from you, I can hardly wait. Whatever happens, know that you’re not alone, and that I think of you. _

_ I miss you. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this fic is from [this Airiel song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ILsGM3YRPNU).


	2. Rigel IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jadzia lands on Rigel IV, not knowing what she'll find on the planet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I owe my eternal gratitude to [ThatAloneOne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatAloneOne/pseuds/ThatAloneOne) who was so kind to read over this monster of a chapter in record time. Go read, kudo and comment all her works if you haven't done that already!! (As always, any remaining mistake is entirely mine.)

“You know I don’t like to stick my nose into your personal relationships,” Benjamin said, his reflection in the mirror looking everywhere but at Jadzia.

“But you’re doing it anyway, so tell me,” Jadzia finished for him. The tedious process of applying the concealing patina to her spots was going to take some time anyway, and Benjamin clearly wanted to talk.

“To be blunt, I think this whole plan is a terrible idea, and I wish you’d told me about it earlier. Asking Quark to get you a place on a cargo ship to the Rigel system is already more trouble than it’s worth, but to fool transporters and port authorities and disguise yourself as human? That’s going a step too far, especially for a Starfleet officer.”

“Luckily I’m already off duty,” she retorted dryly.

“Don’t get too smart with me, old man,” he grumbled. “It’s been like talking to Curzon for the past couple of weeks, and frankly I don’t like it one bit. You know what happens when you get too involved with past lives business. You lose perspective.”

Jadzia stopped mid-motion and carefully laid the brush-like device on the surface of her dresser. She turned around to face Benjamin and replied, “If you’re referring to the blood oath, what I’m doing now is nothing like that.”

“But you’re still willing to go to incredible lengths to seek your own version of justice. I’ve seen you go down this path already; I’m only wondering if it’s worth it.”

“I—” Jadzia lowered her head. She couldn’t play the confident façade, not with just a few hours left before her departure, and not with Benjamin. “I don’t know if all of this will be worth it, or if I’ll just come back feeling worse than when I left. But I have to try.” She made eye contact with him. “I have to be with Lenara again, see for myself if it can work even if it’s against the rules.”

Benjamin held her gaze steadily with a somber expression. “I don’t have much more to offer than what I already said while Dr. Kahn was on the station. You’ve already made clear that you’re willing to risk everything for her. Still— be careful.”

“I’ll try,” she replied earnestly. “Thank you for understanding.”

“Anytime. But I expect you to be back on duty on time and with no side effects from your escapade following you back on the station, is that clear?”

“Aye aye Captain,” Jadzia said with a mock salute. “To be honest, I hope I won’t have to disguise myself every time,” she added, making a face. “I look in the mirror and I hardly recognize myself. I don’t think looking like a human suits me very much.”

Benjamin only laughed in response.

* * *

As she rematerialized on the surface of Rigel IV Jadzia barely avoided crashing against a Tellarite’s luggage. She regained her balance just in time to mutter a hasty apology in Standard: the Tellarite just grunted in her direction before leaving.

Jadzia exhaled, slowly. The last transport had worked with no alert issued by the port authorities, but she hardly felt relieved. Her body was as taut as a string, and the combination of star-lag and one too many awful raktajinos were burning in her stomach.  _ And _ Curzon’s memories hadn’t adequately prepared her for the stronger gravity of the planet. As she walked across the transport hub it seemed the ground was actively trying to make her stumble, like her boots were squelching in mud.

Once outside Jadzia stopped for a moment to bask in the warmth of Rigel IV’s sun. Fifty years later along the planet’s thousand-year-long revolution around Beta Orionis, the northern continent had finally entered a more temperate season. Curzon had huffed and cursed the hot muggy climate during his entire stay, but it seemed that Jadzia would have better luck than him.

If the address she had received months earlier was correct. If Lenara was there. If being face to face wouldn’t make it clear that being together was too difficult, or too awkward. If Trill hadn’t turned Lenara against her own wishes.

Jadzia shook her head, admonishing herself to get a grip. She had fretted enough while on the Yridian cargo ship, and even working her way into taking part in gambling games with the rest of the crew hadn’t made the difference she’d hoped (not even for her depleted latinum reserves). She had a job to do now: find the rail transport line towards the southern ocean. Worrying could wait until she was seated, at least.

Two hours (and several failed attempts at reading a paper on dark matter) later, Jadzia found herself in the plaza outside of Thursvyl’s transport station, the autumn sun still pretty warm on her skin. Time to bring out the final piece of her human disguise from her bag, a straw hat she had replicated only moments before leaving her quarters. With the hat, the clothing patterns she had borrowed from Julian and keeping her hair down, temporarily erasing her spots was almost superfluous, but she hadn’t forgotten Lenara’s warning.

She pretended to check her PADD while looking around. The plaza was mostly empty, the few people around ignoring a single human tourist ostensibly trying to make sense of the city plan. She double checked her surroundings, and took the first step on the path to her destination that she had memorized while on the cargo ship.

She walked slowly, still not used to the gravity. She had also failed to account for the fact Thursvyl was built on a steep hill above the sea, and the winding route she had designed brought her up and down on paved roads lined with yellow-painted buildings until even the mild air was too warm for her clothes. Still, the exercise beat the constant worrying and halfway through her walk she began to smell the salty sea breeze, and to hear the squalls of the sea birds. If they could even be called birds, she remembered with amusement: Curzon had not been sure they had any feathers to speak of.

Before taking a final turn into the narrow street that coincided to Lenara’s address, Jadzia pretended to check her PADD again. There was almost nobody around as far as she could tell, no one was following her or paying attention to her. Everything had gone well until now; she had done all that she could. Jadzia took a long breath, then set out to her destination.

The building at the address had five stories, which probably meant that the apartments at the top had a very nice view of the bay. Jadzia grinned as she punched in the code to enter the main door. She guessed from the apartment number that she needed to go all the way up. She discarded the elevator: despite the long walk she was too full of nervous energy to stand even a few minutes inside of it.

There were fours door on the landing on the fifth floor; Jadzia’s number was the one to the far left. Her heart pounded madly, and not just for the physical exertion. She rang the chime with a slightly trembling hand.

Her mind immediately conjured a scenario in which she was left to wait in front of the door for hours, before giving up and retracing her steps to find a transport back home. Jadzia pictured herself clearly, head bowed in defeat, unable to see any of her surroundings because of the tears.

Jadzia was yanked out from her grim daydream by the door squeaking on its hinges, and behind it there was Lenara. She was wearing a light green  _ rhyzan _ , hair braided loosely on her right shoulder.

They gaped at each other. Jadzia’s usual nonchalance had deserted her entirely, like she was again an unjoined teenager.

“It’s you.” Lenara’s accented Trill, unfiltered by the combadge Jadzia had stashed at the bottom of her bag, was like a wake-up call.

“Here I am,” Jadzia confirmed.

Lenara moved aside to let her in, and Jadzia took the silent offer without further comment. Once inside, she let her bag drop on the floor with little ceremony. Her heart was still beating fast, but she took the time to look around. The apartment was small, only a single room with a bed in the middle, but as she had guessed the large windows that occupied an entire side of it gave a superb view of the bay below.

Lenara closed the door behind them, and Jadzia turned towards her. The combination of her clothes and hair made her look— younger somehow, perhaps less sophisticated. Her grey eyes were regarding Jadzia with a curious expression.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” Lenara said.

“Ah, my disguise,” Jadzia smiled, taking off her straw hat. “What do you think? I’m fairly sure I was able to cover my tracks pretty well while coming here.”

“I’ll bet.” Lenara walked closer to her until she was right in front of Jadzia. She reached out with a hand, hesitantly, and brushed off a strand of Jadzia’s hair that had fallen on her eyes, half smiling. “Where have your spots  _ gone _ ,” she asked softly.

“It’s nothing permanent, don’t worry.” She had aimed for a joking tone but the sudden closeness to Lenara after months spent imagining this reunion made it impossible to conceal the kind of tension she felt.

“I hope so,” Lenara whispered, tucking another strand of Jadzia’s hair behind her left ear. “I think I like you better with them.”

All of Jadzia’s misgivings and fears melted away from her at the touch. Lenara was in front of her, just within her reach, as real and breathing as she had been on DS9. She only had to take a small step, to be right in Lenara’s space, raise her unsteady hand to stroke Lenara’s jaw, look into her eyes to get a silent permission; then lean in, and kiss her, and bring Lenara closer with the hand that was still gripping the brim of her straw hat. And finally, let herself get lost in the exhilaration of being with the woman she loved, without worrying it was something that Lenara didn’t want as much as Jadzia did.

Lenara’s hand found the back of Jadzia’s neck and her shoulder; the urgency she felt from her made Jadzia lightheaded, and she broke the kiss after a short while. She leaned her forehead against Lenara’s, smiling so wide she almost wanted to laugh.

“I take it that you’ve missed me,” she said, voice little more than a whisper.

“Was my message not clear on that?” Lenara replied, her voice low and breathy in a way that did nothing but make Jadzia want her more.

“Hmm. I see your point.”

There were things Jadzia had to say, questions she wanted to ask Lenara; with her in her arms, though, it was proving very difficult to recall any of it. Talking was important, sure, but so was the fact that they were finally together again, and Jadzia fully intended to make the most of the time they had. Discussions about their future could wait: for now the present was the most relevant part of their relationship.

Jadzia threw her hat towards her bag on the floor, missing it by a full meter, then directed her attention to the woman in front of her. “Should we resume or do I look too strange like this?”

“You do look a little unnerving. Like a human, clothes and all,” Lenara said, giving her a once over.

“That was the goal.”

Lenara didn’t reply immediately, electing instead to brush Jadzia’s hair with her fingers. “I like the hair.”

“No safety regulations to follow here. And— I like yours as well,” Jadzia added, taking Lenara’s braid in her hand and turning it over in her fingers. Maybe it was just the way the light of Beta Orionis was filtering through the windows, but Lenara’s hair was just like the color of the fields of  _ rhien _ grass that grew every summer around Jadzia’s family home.

“I’m glad. You caught me completely unprepared,” Lenara said, not looking at her in the eyes.

“Did I get here too early?”

“No, I— I don’t know. I didn’t dare send another comm to ask you when you’d arrive, so I just prepared myself to wait. I think.”

“I can give you a moment to—”

“No,” Lenara interrupted her, her eyes set in a determined expression, holding Jadzia with both hands at the small of her back. “It’s been so long, and now you’re here. I don’t want to think about anything else for a while, if that’s alright with you.”

The undercurrents in her voice troubled Jadzia, but she filed the observation away for later. “That’s fine by me.”

Lenara reached up to kiss her, slowly and deliberately at first, letting Jadzia savor the moment. The urgency from earlier was just below the surface though, and soon enough Jadzia found herself open-mouth kissing the line of spots on Lenara’s neck, delighted and aroused by the way she gasped in response. Her skin was warm under Jadzia’s lips, and she could definitely tell apart the texture of her spots.

“Am I going too fast?” Jadzia whispered against her ear, smiling wildly, her hands already finding their way under Lenara’s clothes.

“No.” As if to make her point further, Lenara grabbed her head with both hands and kissed her again, hotly, all restraints abandoned.

Lenara tugged at her clothes, leading Jadzia towards the bed until Jadzia suddenly lost her footing and they both stumbled clumsily onto the mattress, Jadzia only narrowly avoiding crushing the other woman under her weight.

“ _ QI'yaH! _ Did I hurt you?” Jadzia asked frantically, leaning just above Lenara.

“No.” Lenara smiled. “I guess you human disguise didn’t make you forget your Klingon curses after all.”

Jadzia snorted. “I guess not.”

Lenara laughed, and drew Jadzia down to her, hugging her tightly as both of them giggled helplessly.

“False start, definitely,” Jadzia said, once she was able to speak again. “Care to try again?”

Lenara raised an eyebrow. “We were doing so well before, it seems a shame to let it go to waste.”

“Mmh, I agree,” Jadzia said.

* * *

Later, they lay in bed only half covered with blankets. The light of a setting Beta Orionis was casting irregular orange diamonds on the bed, and Lenara’s hair, freed from her braid, was lit like a flame by it. Her head fit on Jadzia’s shoulder comfortably, and Jadzia felt like dozing off, content.

Lenara dragged the tips of her fingers across Jadzia semi-covered belly, and Jadzia was brought back to reality. The gesture was purposeful but not teasing, and it didn’t take long for Jadzia to guess what she meant by it.

“You’re wondering why I don’t have the scar.”

Lenara looked up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I understand your confusion.” Jadzia covered Lenara’s hand with her own, guiding it on the invisible line of scar tissue that could be still found underneath her skin, if one knew where to look. “Feel that?” Lenara nodded. “That’s what's left of the operations.”

“What do you mean, operations?” Lenara sat up, leaning on her elbow.

Jadzia hesitated; she hadn’t entirely meant to bring up her misadventures so soon. “Someone tried to steal the symbiont once. He almost succeeded; I was without it for more than twenty-four hours.”

Lenara was completely dumbfounded. “Someone tried to steal your symbiont,” she repeated, like she wasn’t sure she had understood correctly.

Jadzia nodded, and if it weren’t for the horrible memories she had of Verad and the experience of being symbiont-less she might have been amused by Lenara’s incredulity. She hadn’t told the story to many people, but of course another joined Trill would notice her lack of scarring from the joining. “He—his name was Verad — took hostage my colleagues on the station, and forced Julian to perform the operation to remove the symbiont from me so he could be joined with it instead. And for a while he was, until he was convinced to return the symbiont before the link became irreversible.”

“That’s horrible,” Lenara breathed. “How could anyone be so entitled to want to take a symbiont from a joined person?”

“I know he wanted it so much it had become an obsession,” Jadzia explained. “But anyway, when Julian returned the symbiont to me he had to close the wound with a dermal regenerator, to avoid any further complications. He had to improvise, and he didn’t know about joining tradition anyway. I was just glad to be Dax again so it never really bothered me much.”

“I see.” Lenara was looking at her with a peculiar expression. “I can’t even imagine what that must’ve been like. Being without the symbiont—”

“I don’t recommend it,” Jadzia interjected, shaking her head. She tucked a strand of Lenara’s hair behind her ear. “I was— cut off from myself, and the only thing I remember of the few minutes I was awake during that time is that I was empty. Just a lot of emptiness.”

“I hope the culprit has been apprehended.”

Jadzia nodded. “It all ended well, luckily.”

Lenara brushed the tips of her fingers on Jadzia’s belly again, feather-like but not quite tickling her. “When we talked on DS9 I was under the impression that the wild stories were something that came from your past hosts.”

“You can’t even begin to guess the kind of trouble we get ourselves into on DS9,” Jadzia replied with a grin.

“I hope nothing else as dire as symbiont theft.”

Jadzia’s amusement vanished. She couldn’t bring herself to reply to that: she suspected Lenara wouldn’t react well to learning about Joran, but she didn’t want to lie to her either. She looked down to where Lenara’s hand was, and intertwined their fingers together.

“There is a lot that I haven’t told you yet,” Jadzia settled on saying, “about me and my life. I’m still sorting out some of the things that happened to me.”

Lenara leaned back from her and stared. “That sounds awfully serious.”

Jadzia let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m sorry, I realize the way I said it doesn’t help. I will tell you everything, I promise, just— not all at once.”

A pause, in which Lenara appeared to search for hints on Jadzia’s face. “It will be difficult not to think about it all the time now, but I’ll try to not ask too many questions,” Lenara conceded in the end, then laid down beside Jadzia.

“You must have some stories of your own.” Jadzia rolled on her side to face the other woman, propping her head on her hand. She reached out to caress Lenara’s belly around the thin pale line that interrupted her midriff, mirroring Lenara’s earlier gestures.

“In comparison to yours, my life is probably very boring.”

“I take it that you plan to change that, since you’re here.”

Lenara diverted her eyes. “I wish I could say that had been an obvious decision.”

The regret in her voice carved a hole in Jadzia’s chest. She brought her hand up to caress Lenara’s cheek, and she looked back at Jadzia with something like gratitude.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jadzia asked, her voice little more than a whisper.

“I don’t know. It wasn’t a pretty few months.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jadzia said, meaning it, although part of her wanted to remind Lenara that she had been right, that going back to Trill had made things harder for Lenara in the end.

“The difficult part is that I don’t have anyone to talk about this. Even just mentioning reassociation in the abstract in front of the wrong person could cause me a lot of trouble.” Her voice wavered when she continued: “I had not realized how much friendships of family ties could be— conditional, before meeting you. Now I realize how naive I have been all my life.”

It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. “Did you and your brother fight?” Jadzia asked, as gently as she could.

“Yes. It was inevitable, I think, after the things he said to me when I left the station. I was so angry, I said a few unforgivable things myself. We only talk about work now, and even that is often awkward.” She sighed. “I don’t know what to do with him.”

If Bejal had been anyone but Lenara’s brother Jadzia would’ve simply thought ‘good riddance’, but family could be a complicated matter. “I know what you mean. I don’t know what I would do if my sister or my parents rejected me because of us.”

Lenara blinked. “Didn’t you consider what could happen when you asked me to stay with you on DS9?”

“To be honest, not really,” Jadzia replied, “Not immediately at least. I’m— not close to them as I used to be. But it would still hurt if my sister told me that I was throwing my life away or something similar. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“In some way it helped,” Lenara said wryly. “I couldn’t wait to get away from Trill and be with you again, if sometimes I despaired to ever be able to. I had to reassure everyone that I didn’t intend to do anything nefarious by staying on my own for a few days. That’s why I was afraid about people finding out about my deception.”

“I’m sure you were careful enough. Rigel IV is such a remote place, and Thursvyl a popular vacation spot.”

Lenara sighed, and sat up on the mattress. “I don’t want to think about any of this now, or I won’t be able to function at all for the rest of the evening. I’m kind of hungry, what would you say if we tried to find something to eat?”

“That sounds like a good idea, although—” Jadzia sat up, so she was right in front of Lenara. “If you need distraction you only have to say the word,” she said, giving Lenara the most obvious once over she could muster.

Lenara laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”

Jadzia forgave the observation as soon as Lenara kissed her and pushed her back onto the mattress.

* * *

The sun had already set behind the Rigelian ocean when Jadzia and Lenara managed to get out of the apartment. Even at the late hour people were milling about, but no one seemed particularly concerned by a pair of slightly disoriented aliens. Jadzia was pleased to notice that her appearance was still unremarkable: the patina that covered up Jadzia’s spots had begun to fade, and even Lenara had agreed that reapplying it was unnecessary.

“No offense to your human colleagues, but I much prefer you as a Trill,” she had said, making Jadzia snort. “And with those clothes and you hair down no one will look twice at you anyway.”

A fraction more relaxed, Jadzia focused her attention on Lenara; under the streetlights she was magnificent in the simple blue  _ rhyzan _ and loose pants she wore. She had also remade the braid she had had when Jadzia had knocked at her door.

“You know, I really like your hair like that. It makes you look more— at ease somehow?”

Lenara glanced at her. “I’m glad you think so, but I wish it actually helped with making me less nervous.”

“Are you afraid that something bad will happen tonight?”

“I’m always afraid of one thing or another.” Lenara shook her head, then she looked back at Jadzia. “Besides, this is the first time we’re really going out together, isn’t it? So yes, even if I wasn’t worried about being exposed to our entire homeworld I’d still be a bit— apprehensive.”

Jadzia considered, wetting her lips with her tongue. “That’s an interesting thing to worry about, given what we’ve been doing all afternoon,” she said, earning a glare and a light shove from Lenara. “But don’t worry, I’ll be your knight in shining armor tonight.”

“My what?”

“Oh, sorry. Human expression. I meant that I’ll try to be as courteous as possible, and also I’ll keep an eye out for anything funny, like someone following us.” She paused, leaning in towards the other woman. “A long time ago, in some parts of Earth, knights used to declare their devotion and pledge their loyalty and protection to noble ladies.”

“I see you’re still taking your disguise very seriously,” she said dryly, but her eyes were crinkling with amusement. She linked her arm with Jadzia’s, and the boldness of the gesture sent a pleasant shiver down Jadzia’s spine. “Well, shall we?”

“Where to?” Jadzia asked.

“Down towards the seafront is my best bet to find some food.”

They walked down the street in front of them for several blocks, and after a while the din of a crowd was discernible to both of them. Turning right at a crossroads brought them right into the middle of it, and Jadzia didn’t have to wonder what was causing people to gather.

The narrow alleyway was lined on both sides with long tables and benches, most of them tightly packed with people from all sorts of origin: Rigelians, Orions, Humans. Jadzia spotted the antennas of a few Andorians as well, not to mentions several other species she didn’t have time to name. All of them were either eating or talking or both things at once, and it was almost impossible to make apart the smells of what was being prepared in the kitchens whose lime-green doors where all wide open to the street. A particular pungent, zingy smell made Jadzia stop in her tracks, caught in a moment of dejà-vu.

“I have been here before,” she said out loud, to Lenara’s inquiring expression.

“You have? Wait, don’t tell me: it was Curzon.”

Jadzia chuckled. “How did you guess?”

“You told me about his adventures in the Rigel system,” Lenara explained.

“That’s right, I did tell you about it. He liked this part of the city, and I can understand why. It’s still so lively.”

“I hope you like it as well.”

“Much.”

Lenara smiled warmly, pleased. They kept walking, talking very little as the crowd got thicker and avoiding bumping into other people harder, and soon they encountered another street crossing transversally the alley they were on. It was similarly occupied on either side by benches and tables of the various establishments that sold food, drink or big water pipes to smoke.

Lenara tugged at Jadzia’s arm. “That way.” She pointed with her chin confidently towards their left side, where the road sloped down towards the bay.

“You also seem to know the city pretty well,” Jadzia observed, surprised by Lenara’s decisiveness.

“Nilani spent a few months here. She was invited by the Council of Universities of the Rigel system for a couple of semesters, so she came to know the city and its surroundings pretty well.”

“Oh, she must have seen so much more than Curzon then. How long ago was she here? I can’t imagine any Trill really going around much during the summer.”

Lenara smirked. “Have you considered that maybe it was Curzon who was too delicate to explore the surroundings?”

Jadzia laughed, only narrowly avoiding bumping into a Rigelian walking in the opposite direction. “I never thought of describing Curzon as ‘delicate’ before. But you may have a point, he didn’t like being sweaty and out of breath, unless it was for bat’leth dueling.” She paused, noticing that Lenara had decisively taken the lead while she talked. “I trust you have a particular place in mind.”

“It’s not far, you’ll see.”

They walked some more, the crowd getting thicker the more they advanced. Jadzia felt like an intruder in an insect colony, walking alongside so many others who, unlike her, clearly had a purpose, one that she couldn’t begin to guess. Lenara, on the contrary, wore a calm expression on her face, perhaps the result of past practice allowing her the kind of certainty that Jadzia lacked. But if there was something that being joined to Dax had taught her, it was going with the flow: she let Lenara take the lead, trying her best to not lose sight of her among the multitude of people. So much for all her declarations of chivalrous loyalty.

“I guess people in Thursvyl are still following summer habits, being out at this time of the night,” Jadzia observed out loud so that Lenara could hear. She was walking in front of her as they proceeded in single file.

“It takes time for people to adapt to the new season,” Lenara explained, looking back at her. “And it can still get very warm during the day. Or at least that’s what I’ve been told by the Rigelians I’ve met.”

The crowded street opened up to a slightly sloping square, which was occupied almost to the center by rows of tables and benches. Unobstructed by buildings, the light breeze from the bay carried even more appealing smells, and Jadzia’s stomach growled.

Lenara took her right hand, and pulled Jadzia right inside the currents of the people walking around the narrow passages among the tables. Jadzia followed her as best as she could, sparing only a few glances at her surroundings: a Klingon loudly complimenting the cooks as he waved a large bone around, a Vulcan visibly struggling to maintain composure in front of a bowl of soup that was probably too spicy for their habits.

Lenara stopped walking abruptly and Jadzia almost tripped into her. “I can’t believe it’s still here,” she whispered, a big smile on her face. She looked back at Jadzia. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, sorry, I just stumbled.”

“It’s my fault, I just didn’t expect to find this place still standing.” Lenara pointed at the large doorway in front of them. A waiter walked briskly through it, carrying an impressively large tray with at least six bowls on it, their content splashing dangerously close to the rim. “Seafood soup,” Lenara explained, “perhaps not as exciting as other dishes, but if things haven’t changed in the last forty years then we’re in for a treat. What do you think?”

“Sure, why not.”

They took a seat in one of the long tables set outside the soup kitchen, squeezing in between two Rigelian customers who were methodically emptying their bowls. The space was limited, and Jadzia was very aware of the way their thighs touched. Being this close in public was thrilling, the forbidden nature of their relationship was still very clear in Jadzia’s head. She surreptitiously looked around, and when she was reasonably sure no one was paying attention to them, Jadzia turned her attention again towards Lenara.

“I hope there’s nothing poisonous to Trill physiology in this soup.”

Lenara raised an eyebrow. “Most things on Rigel IV are edible, as long as they’re fresh. Did you actually manage to be ill while you were here?”

“Actually, yes,” Jadzia replied, cringing at the memories, “though you’re right, that might have been more because of the kind of places Curzon had taken a liking to. When you like to play Tongo with strangers and don’t mind getting distracted by Orion dancers—” she trailed off, remembering too late that Lenara wasn’t fond of Curzon’s recklessness.

“He just sounded like the type, from what you’ve told me,” Lenara commented, no longer smiling.

Jadzia was spared to try and defend Curzon by one of the waiters coming around their table, inquiring briskly what they wanted to eat. Lenara placed her order in what sounded like convincing Rigelian pidgin, and Jadzia gestured for more of the same.

“That’s a lot of faith you have in my taste,” Lenara said, surprised, once the waiter had gone back to the kitchen.

“I know an expert when I see one.”

“I would hardly call myself an ‘expert’ on Rigelian food.”

“Maybe not for all Rigelian food, but surely an expert of local seafood soup.”

“It’s called  _ taskvi _ , it’s what’s written on the sign outside the door.”

Jadzia looked back at the kitchen, finding the sign but unable to decipher any of the characters on it. “Oh believe me, you’re definitely an expert,” Jadzia said, smiling towards Lenara.

The Rigelian on Jadzia’s left, having gotten to the bottom of his bowl, briskly left a few coins on the table then got up without further ceremony. Jadzia’s stomach dropped: she had completely forgotten about the currency-based economy of the region.

“Do you think they take latinum here as payment?”

“Probably, unless you pay with an entire bar of it,” Lenara replied, puzzled, then her eyes widened in understanding. “You forgot about the local currency, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so,” Jadzia replied sheepishly. “But I have a few slips of latinum with me. Actually, now that I think about it, I haven’t even asked you about the apartment and what I owe you for it,” she added, wishing the ground would swallow her.

Lenara laughed at her embarrassment. “Don’t worry about the apartment. It’s a complicated exchange of travel refunds between Federation and non-Federation academic institutions, but the gist is, I’m not paying for it so neither are you.”

Jadzia smiled despite herself. “Going on paid vacation to meet your forbidden lover, uh?”

Lenara just rolled her eyes at her.

The waiter came back, setting two large bowls in front of them, together with two pieces of cutlery that looked remarkably like the Starfleet-issued sporks that could be found in the away team supplies. Lenara thanked the waiter in pidgin again.

“Thank you,” Jadzia said earnestly. “Both for the accommodation and the cultural expertise.”

Lenara smiled back to her. “It’s nothing really. I’m here on my own according to the rest of the galaxy, remember?”

“So it makes sense for you to be in a place you know already.”

“Exactly.”

Jadzia brought her attention on the contents of her bowl. The smell was inviting, although the colors were unexpected. Something that looked like bright yellow leaves were floating on the surface; she had never seen anything like it in her previous time on Rigel IV. Her hunger dueled momentarily against her scientific curiosity, until Lenara came to her rescue again.

“Those are algae.”

“Oh. Well I suppose I could’ve guessed it, considering it’s seafood soup.” She sighed. “I guess I’m more tired than I realized.”

Lenara reached out to cover Jadzia’s right wrist with her palm. “I can imagine you are. You had a long journey, and you’re star-lagged too.”

“Best to dig in, what do you think?”

“I agree.”

They ate in silence for a short while, the unusual flavors admittedly very enjoyable. Soon enough though Jadzia’s attention fell on Lenara again.

“You’re full of surprises, you know,” Jadzia said.

Lenara looked at her. “In what way?”

“Everything you say just makes me want to know more about how you learned so much. You mentioned that Nilani got to know a few people from Rigel IV, right?”

“She did, yes. A few colleagues. One of them brought me here to eat one night, and I was so impressed I kept coming back, sometimes with him, sometimes alone.”

“I see. Well I wish I could thank him, because the food is really delicious.”

“I’m glad we’re in agreement.”

Lenara didn’t elaborate further, and it hadn’t escaped Jadzia’s notice the way she kept mixing up her pronouns. Still, it was probably best not to ask further questions for the moment. They ate in companionable silence again for a while, until Lenara spoke again.

“How are things on Deep Space 9?”

“The usual.” Jadzia shrugged. “Always on alert in case the situation between the Klingon Empire and the Cardassian Union destabilizes too much. Commander Worf having trouble settling in. I’ve been trying to help him since I’m the ‘Klingon expert’, among other things.”

“I can imagine it’s been a busy few months.”

“It has. But I like my job. Never knowing what will happen, what skill I’ll have to call upon any given day. I think it’s the ideal place for a joined Trill.”

“I’m not sure how many Initiates would agree with you,” Lenara observed with amusement. “You don’t often hear ‘looking for adventure’ in the self-evaluation essays.”

“Well, you’re encouraged to present yourself to the Evaluation Board as a mature candidate with a mild temperament and a level head, so that you won’t lose your mind in the joining.”

“I suppose,” Lenara conceded. “But I’m curious, why choose a career in Starfleet? It’s neither traditional nor a particularly reassuring choice.”

“Ah, good question.” And one Jadzia had been asked many many times before, in all her time in the Initiate Program. She smirked. “I will spare you the rehearsed answer to that. Partly, it was because I thought that picking something unusual was a clever choice, that I’d be noticed by the Board more easily if I went all the way to Earth to attend Starfleet Academy. Plus I didn’t want to pick a single scientific field to specialize, not immediately at least, and I knew the Academy rewards people who are able to multitask. And lastly— I just wanted to be on starships, ever since I was a kid, and Starfleet seemed the best way to achieve that.”

Lenara tilted her head. “I see. So what would young Jadzia think of you now, stuck on a space station after all that hard work?”

“Well, the adventures are finding me anyway so I think she’d be thrilled,” Jadzia replied, a grin spreading across her face of its own volition.

Lenara’s expression softened into something that looked a lot like amused fondness. “So in the end you’re doing what you’ve always wanted to do.”

“The path to get there wasn’t— as linear as I made it sound, but in a way I can say I am happy with where I am.”

Lenara nodded, not replying immediately. She was absentmindedly tracing the mouth of her now empty bowl with her fingers, and the motion kept distracting Jadzia, so much that when Lenara talked again it was almost startling.

“You know, I can’t remember a moment when Torias was— simply content. He was always moving. Even in the rare moments when Nilani managed to make him stay still, his mind was always aimed towards something. The next project, the next test.” She lifted her head to meet Jadzia’s gaze. “You’re different. I know I said this already,” she added quickly, with a self-deprecating smile, “But you can be— calm. And calming too.”

Jadzia ducked her head at that, unsure how to react to what sounded like praise, coming from the other woman. “I’m glad you think so, although I don’t think many of my colleagues would agree.”

“I can’t say that for sure, since I’ve spent very little time with them, but they all seemed at ease with you. Torias wasn’t someone who went out of his way to be liked.”

Jadzia was surprised to hear that. “You have a very clear opinion of him.”

“Am I wrong?” Lenara retorted.

Jadzia thought back to the short lifespan she had inherited from Torias. The reflection in the mirror as he washed his face, looking back at her — at himself — with a scowl first thing every morning. The exhilaration of flight, the more dangerous the more satisfying. The drive to succeed at all costs, failure an unacceptable option. The vindication of having bested all the competition.

Torias’ presence was always the strongest when Jadzia piloted the Defiant in battle, steadying her arms and clearing her head despite the adrenaline rush. There were downsides to it, though: his proud nature, and as she had learned by meeting Lenara, his unwillingness to listen.

“He could be— very intense,” Jadzia settled on saying.

“I don’t think I would be able to be with him at all,” Lenara said. “I like you way more as you are now.”

If they had been anywhere but in the middle of a bustling city, Jadzia could’ve kissed her right then and there.

* * *

They woke up the next morning when Beta Orionis was already high in the sky, and ended up getting out of bed later still, when the growl of Jadzia’s stomach caused Lenara to have an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

“Alright, we’ll go find something to eat,” she said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“I wasn’t opposed to see where this was going, you know.”

Lenara appraised her with half-lidded eyes. “Neither was I, but I don’t want to have ‘made Dax faint from starvation’ on my conscience. Plus it’s not like we can’t continue later.”

Jadzia drew Lenara closer. “Hmm, I love the way you think.”

They kissed unhurriedly despite the earlier promises of food, then Lenara lowered her head onto Jadzia’s shoulder.

“I thought this would be harder,” she murmured against Jadzia’s skin. “After all the horror stories people told in the Program.”

“You mean reassociation sex?”

“Not just  _ that _ ,” she said, poking Jadzia’s sternum with her index finger, “intimacy in general. I was almost convinced that just sharing the same space could short-circuit the connection to the symbionts.”

Jadzia remembered the cautionary tales as well, people losing their minds when they found out that they couldn’t reconcile the current body of their lover with the memories that compelled them to be together. Even inexperienced, unjoined Jadzia had thought that those must’ve been exaggerations, and that they were just tales coming from Trill’s past when people had a much narrower view on gender and sexuality. Still, it was hard for any Initiate to not believe or do what they were told.

“I’m glad none of that is true. When we are together I just see you, as you are.”

Lenara kissed the corner of her mouth. “I wish I could explain that to everyone on Trill.”

“Maybe we’ll get to it, one day.”

Lenara remained silent, letting her head fall on Jadzia’s shoulder again. Something was on her mind, but Jadzia didn’t pry. Not long after, Lenara extricated herself from Jadzia’s arms, got up and started looking for her clothes scattered on the floor.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think about Trill again.”

“It’s alright, I brought up the topic first.” Lenara looked at her with a sad smile. “I just need to keep my hands busy for a few minutes.”

Jadzia watched from the bed as Lenara got dressed, then moved in front of the bathroom mirror to brush her hair. Unenthusiastically Jadzia got up, and started picking up her own clothes as well. She let the guilt and annoyance at Lenara’s change in behavior wash over her, repeating to herself that this was a reflection of their complicated situation more than it could be blamed on either of them.

Lenara had started braiding her hair in the tight coils around her head she had worn during her time on DS9. Jadzia walked up to her and leaned on her side against the bathroom door frame, folding her arms on her chest.

“Those look really complicated.”

“It just takes some practice,” Lenara said, her fingers not missing a beat while she wove the strands of her hair together. Her movements were mesmerizing.

“Then you must have had a lot.”

“I learned as a girl, and I’ve always braided my hair one way or another ever since,” she replied with an amused tone, keeping her eyes on her reflection in the mirror. Her expression became serious again. “I’m really sorry for my reaction, Dax. It’s just that I can’t even imagine telling people on Trill about us. The very idea makes me panic.”

“I understand,” Jadzia said, though in reality she wanted to ask how long Lenara thought their relationship could go on like this. Was she assuming they were going to spend years in this fashion, meeting for a handful of days on planets on the Federation border, once every few months?

Lenara finished up by pinning the two braids in place at the back of her head. It had taken her only a few minutes, and Jadzia had to admit that the result was impressive. It had been like witnessing a transformation: Lenara now looked like she could take on the world without a hair out of place. Jadzia put her ungenerous thoughts out of her mind.

“Will you teach me?”

“To braid your hair?” Lenara was smiling wide now. “Sure, why not. No one ever asked me.”

“Really? What kind of lovers did you have before, that they weren’t fascinated by the way you can use your fingers?”

Lenara rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “I get the feeling that was only the first of many dirty jokes I’ll be subjected to while in your company.”

Jadzia grinned, and closed the distance between them to embrace the other woman from behind. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” she whispered in Lenara’s ear.

“Luckily for you, I’m too old to be surprised by anything you can say.”

“Mmh, I like a challenge.”

“I really brought this upon myself now, didn’t I?” Lenara said, turning her head to look directly at Jadzia. “I should’ve known this part of you hadn’t changed.”

“Yep, still the same old Dax at heart.”

Lenara gave her a peck on the cheek, and Jadzia dutifully let her go so she could finish up getting ready to go out.

* * *

“Lenara, I’ve been meaning to tell you something, and it’s probably going to sound a little ridiculous.”

“Oh? Well, I’m listening.”

They were walking on the pier that lead to Thursvyl’s famed sea fortifications against pirate raids, which consisted of a series of sea walls with the occasional turret, all built with the reddish sandstone that came from the coast. A strong breeze warded off the midday warmth, and Jadzia had to keep a hand on her hat to not let it fly away into the water, not to mention her hair that kept going in her eyes. Still, it was a pleasant walk after so much time spent inside. Lenara appeared more at ease as well, often supplying information about Thursvyl’s history from what she remembered of Nilani’s stay.

“Torias was often— jealous with you, and I regret it,” Jadzia explained. “I want you to know that part of me isn’t there anymore. You don’t have to choose your words around me, I can handle it.”

Lenara glanced at her, eyebrows raised. “What brought this on?”

“Well talking about Nilani’s time here— I noticed the way you never named people or never went into many details, and if you were doing it for my sake then I can assure you it isn’t necessary.”

“I see,” she replied simply, though by the way she kept her lips pressed together Jadzia guessed she was trying not to laugh.

“Am I that much off the mark?”

Lenara looked over at her before answering. “I don’t think you are, though I didn’t do it consciously. But I think that most of all you’re curious to know more.”

Jadzia shrugged. “Can you blame me? There’s still so much I don’t know about you and what you’ve been doing in the meantime.”

“Not many other people would start by asking about exes.”

“So I  _ was _ right.” Jadzia grinned.

Lenara closed her eyes in exasperation. “Alright, alright. Yes, Nilani had an affair with one of her Rigelian colleagues. His name was Ratak, a mathematician who specialized in applications to astrophysics modelling. Very bright. Delicate facial features. Very different from Torias.”

“Were they in love?”

Lenara didn’t answer immediately. “Talking about being ‘in love’ back then is hard. There were you first, and after that nothing was the same. The relationship with Ratak was very short.”

Jadzia now regretted asking. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

“They aren’t bad, actually. We remained in contact after that. But I was — she was already in her mid-fifties, and uprooting her life entirely for a relationship wasn’t something she really considered.”

Jadzia nodded in reply.

They had reached the end of the pier, where a metal gate signaled the end of the walking path. The sea fortifications had long been abandoned, and the local government still hadn’t reached an agreement about an eventual restoration so they remained inaccessible to the general public. Still, Jadzia didn’t feel like going back so soon, wanting to have the salty air filling her lungs for a while longer. The only other people nearby were fishermen, idly waiting for anything to catch. Once again, no sign of anyone following them. Relieved, Jadzia sat down on the concrete path, feet resting on the rocks haphazardly tossed below as foundation, and Lenara followed suit.

They sat near each other, their legs not quite touching. The waves lapping against the rocks had a soothing rhythm, and Jadzia closed her eyes, breathing in sync with them.

“I thought I had chosen this place because it was convenient for us to meet,” Lenara said after a while, and Jadzia reopened her eyes to look at her. “It’s familiar, far away from Trill, a good spot to pass off as me taking a vacation after a long semester. But the other night I began to wonder if it was also because I wanted to show it to you. Every time I saw a new place or my life took a different turn, I used to think, ‘I wish he was here to see this’.”

Jadzia took off her hat and scooted closer to Lenara until their knees were touching. She took Lenara’s right hand in her left one; Lenara’s hands were smaller, and the skin fairer, blue veins clearly visible underneath it. “I’m glad you brought me here. I’m very lucky to be able to see it with you.”

“And I am glad you’re here.” Lenara looked back to her with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “But you must have had your own share of relationships,”

Jadzia chuckled, letting Lenara’s hand go. “I won’t bore you with Curzon’s ideas on love; he just wasn’t the type for relationships. And I— well. Don’t have much to say for myself.”

Lenara leaned back, skeptical. “I don’t believe that for one second.”

“When I was an Initiate and then at the Academy I was too busy concentrating on my studies to have much time for that sort of thing,” Jadzia explained, smiling at the memories of her younger self. “I had a clear goal, and I was a bit shy in social situations, so even if I had a crush or two they never became anything long-term.”

“Now I really wish I could’ve seen you,” Lenara said, face lighting up. “I almost can’t picture you as a shy girl.”

“Oh believe me, I was. A bit awkward too. I had a growth spurt as a kid and spent a few years not knowing what to do with all these limbs.” Jadzia met Lenara’s gaze. “And who knows, you might have seen me, at some point, around the Symbiosis Commission grounds.”

“I doubt that. I’m positive I was already joined when you entered the Program. And anyway, don’t try to change the subject: you still haven’t said anything about after your joining.”

“You’d be surprised how long it took to adapt to it. And then I was in Starfleet, always changing assignments—”

“Now you’re just playing coy,” Lenara said with a glare.

Jadzia laughed. “Alright. After I got transferred on DS9 I dated a Gallamite captain for some time.”

“A  _ Gallamite _ ? Transparent skull, sharp teeth?” Lenara’s eyes were very wide.

“Why is that the first thing everyone says when I talk about Boday?”

“Well you have to admit, it’s not often you hear about Gallamites in the context of dating.”

“He was a gentleman, and very charismatic.”

“I’m sure he must’ve had a lot of good qualities, it’s just— unexpected to hear, that’s all,” Lenara concluded diplomatically, making Jadzia snort in amusement.

The wind picked up, and Jadzia’s hat threatened to fly away despite the weight of her hand. The view in front of her was hazy with the reflection of the light on the ocean and the city, rising up sharply from the water, could’ve been a sight from a dream. 

“One time I met a man, on a planet in the Gamma Quadrant,” she began, not daring to look at the woman beside her. “We had been exploring with the Defiant, and suddenly this planet came into our sensors out of nowhere. Of course we had to investigate; turns out the planet was out of phase with the rest of the galaxy, but most importantly it was inhabited. We met the people there, and stayed with them for a few days, and that’s where I met Deral. We talked a lot, about everything and anything; he was brilliant and charming. Before I knew it— I was falling in love.”

Jadzia risked a glance towards Lenara; her face betrayed no clear reaction to her words, but she was listening attentively.

“But the planet wouldn’t remain phased with our universe for long; I had to make a decision, quickly, before it disappeared again, possibly for good.” She gulped, all the old regret resurfacing too fast for her liking. She had made a mistake by confessing it so soon, but now that she had started Jadzia found that she couldn’t stop. “I told Benjamin that I wanted to stay.”

“Oh, Dax.”

Jadzia soldiered on with her story. “Once my mind was made up, I thought I was done, that I had found my place and that there was nothing more standing in my way. It turned out I was wrong: I couldn’t physically match the phase change of the planet, and my presence put the planet itself at risk. I had to beam back to the Defiant.” Jadzia took a deep breath, then smiled wryly towards Lenara. “And that’s the story of the last time I fell in love.”

“I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Jadzia waved a hand dismissively. “It’s alright now, for the most part.”

“How long ago did this happen?”

Jadzia blinked; she was surprised to find out that she hadn’t kept track in a while. “Let’s see— a little more than one standard year, I think.”

“That’s such a recent thing!”

“I know. I thought it had been longer, it’s like it belongs to an entire different host now.” She paused. “This probably makes me a fickle person.”

Lenara squeezed Jadzia’s left knee. “Not fickle. I guess I’ve always known how quick you can be when it comes to feelings.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Most definitely.” Lenara brought her knees up to her torso, and hugged her legs with both arms. She had a far away look on her face. “I envy you for it sometimes.”

“Benjamin would tell you that I’m just more trouble than it’s worth,” Jadzia joked.

“And yet Captain Sisko is still your friend, even across lifetimes.”

“He really is,” Jadzia agreed.

They remained in silence, sharing the view together for a while longer. Despite the embarrassment of confessing something like her history with Deral so soon, Jadzia was glad that Lenara had been understanding. As they shared a companionable silence, however, Jadzia’s curiosity about Lenara kept nagging at her.

“I’m still curious, you know. About you,” Jadzia said in the end.

Lenara turned towards her, blinking innocently. “In what way?”

“Now you’re the one who’s playing coy.” Jadzia grinned, leaning in. “I mean about relationships, you know, what we’ve been talking about up until now?”

“I see.” Lenara was smirking. “You’re really interested in this topic, aren’t you.”

“You can’t blame a girl for being curious. I’ll bet you have a lot to say.”

“And why is that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, because you’re brilliant, and beautiful, and I can’t imagine people not falling in love with you at every turn?”

“Very smooth,” Lenara retorted, trying not to laugh, the corners of her eyes crinkling in the way that always made Jadzia warmer. Then she sighed, and any levity left her face. “I had one long-term relationship in the past, if you must know. But to be honest I’d rather not talk about it right now, if that’s alright.”

Taken aback, Jadzia only nodded in response. Remembering how Lenara had taken in stride her wishes regarding her misadventures, she pushed down her own curiosity. Still, it was hard to not wonder a little what could be the cause of Lenara’s reticence, and if it had anything to do with the way things were between her and Jadzia. She hoped it wasn’t anything too painful. Either way, the only thing she could do was wait until Lenara was ready to talk about it. 

Jadzia nudged her lightly with her shoulder, and Lenara looked back to her with a small smile. Yes, Jadzia could definitely stand to be patient when it came to Lenara. It had taken several decades for them to reunite, giving each other a little space would not make a terrible difference in comparison.

* * *

“— so even if I finished, technically, to review all the data, I didn’t want to present the result with an incomplete analysis of what went wrong in the second phase of the experiment. I want to cover all my bases as much as I can before I officially present the results.”

Jadzia nodded in understanding, prevented from commenting further by the mouthful of rigelian squid salad she was chewing.

“I think it’ll take a couple more months, but realistically more. I can’t wait to be done with it. People keep asking me about the experiment, and I’m running out of excuses at this point.”

Jadzia swallowed down the food. “Well it’s understandable that they’re curious, it’s the culmination of all your post-doctoral research and your ideas were always very ambitious.”

Lenara looked away, towards the bay that now was glittering with the setting sun. The view was truly spectacular from the terrace of the restaurant, but Jadzia wasn’t sure Lenara was seeing any of it. Since their return from their walk on the sea fortress she’d been restless, not unlike the episode in the morning after Jadzia had reminded her of Trill.

“To be honest, writing this paper feels like an admission of failure,” Lenara said in the end, voice barely audible above the bustle from the other tables and sound coming from the city below them.

“Why? I thought we agreed that the experiment on the Defiant was a huge achievement, despite everything.”

Lenara glanced at her briefly, but then focused her eyes in the far off distance again. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the way I went back to Trill that it’s making me think that way.”

She had folded her hands together, and was rubbing her right thumb on her left palm absentmindedly. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Jadzia said, unsure how to ask Lenara what was bothering her.

“I put a lot into this project, my entire career up until now for this. A lot is at stake. And now all I have is half-failed experiment and a team of people that only talk to me in monosyllables.”

“I’m really sorry for the situation with your team. Still, you have pretty tangible results in your hands despite all the setbacks, that must count for something,” Jadzia reminded her.

“I hope so.” Lenara sighed deeply. “I don’t think I can continue to work with Pren or Bejal, though. It’s been miserable. I am hoping that publishing this paper will be the opportunity that makes me eligible for a better position in the Trill Science Ministry.”

“I didn’t know you were looking for a promotion inside the Ministry,” Jadzia said, dread setting into her bones as soon as the last word was out of her mouth. Lenara’s career was on Trill, and she apparently had no intention to change that any time soon.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to be a professor. I could build my own group, continue my research with an even larger scope.”

Jadzia looked down at the squid salad that was left in her plate, suddenly as unappealing as a bowl of plomeek soup.

“That’s great,” Jadzia muttered, knowing that she wasn’t fooling anyone with her tone. “It is a prestigious position.”

“Dax,” Lenara warned.

Jadzia tried again. “I’m happy that you have the opportunity to get the position you’ve always wanted. And the Science Ministry is the best research institution Trill has to offer.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Lenara said. "That this will make me stay on Trill for good, and that it will be even more difficult to see each other. But that’s not it at all. As a professor I’ll actually have a lot more freedom of movement than I have now. I won’t need anyone to pre-approve my proposals before the administration reviews it, and my title will carry a lot more weight. I’ll be completely above suspicion.”

“I didn’t know being a professor gave you that much clout.”

“You know Trill. The more titles you have, the more doors open for you.”

Jadzia chose her next words carefully. “I’m happy for you, I really am. I just don’t want you to be put more on the spot by this than you already are.”

“I know.” Lenara squeezed Jadzia’s hands between her own. “But I really can’t stay where I am now. I can’t bear to go to the office every morning and feel like I’m being ignored by the people who should be my closest collaborators. And I have no intention of settling for less than what I have now. I worked too hard for it.”

Jadzia blinked, taken aback. Lenara couldn’t know about Jadzia’s history within the Initiate Program, about the drive that had made her reapply a second time to achieve what she’d always dreamt of as a girl. Lenara had inadvertently made what was probably the only argument Jadzia couldn’t rebuke.

“If I were you, I probably wouldn’t settle for anything else than what I always wanted, too,” she murmured, breaking eye contact.

“I’m glad you understand,” Lenara said, relief palpable in her voice. She reached out to cover Jadzia’s hand with her own. “I don’t want this to end either. We’ll be together again.”

Jadzia nodded, unable to voice the jumble of thoughts in her head. Once again it wasn’t a promise, but as far as reassurances went it was probably the best Jadzia could get, considering their situation. Jadzia took back her hand, and picked up the cutlery to poke unenthusiastically at the salad in her plate.

“Did I entirely ruin the evening?”

Jadzia shook her head, then looked up at Lenara. “No. But it was good to pretend for a while that things weren’t complicated as they are.”

“There’s the distinct possibility that things will become less complicated in the future.”

“I hope so,” Jadzia replied. Privately, however, she thought that hope alone wouldn’t bring that change about any time soon.

* * *

On the last day of their brief vacation, Jadzia suggested they went to visit the old fortress at the top of the hill on which Thursvyl was built.

“Even Curzon thought it was impressive.”

They were still in bed, Lenara comfortably snuggled against her. Jadzia could still hardly believe she relished physical touch so much when they were alone: the memories she had of Nilani spoke of a different kind of intimacy, one that burned hot one minute and cooled down just as fast. Or maybe it had been Torias’ lack of sentimentality; it was hard to guess when they had talked so little about it.

“Why go to the fortress again, when we’ve both already seen it,” Lenara complained against Jadzia neck, not opening her eyes.

“I think there’s something worth in repeating old experiences with fresh eyes. The difference might surprise you.”

Lenara didn’t immediately react, but reading between the lines of Jadzia’s words wasn’t that hard. Jadzia just laughed when Lenara finally raised her head to glare at her. It was endearing to see her so open, unselfconscious of her state of undress and tousled hair.

“I thought the dirty jokes would be the worst part, but I was wrong. You’re never going to stop making reassociation jokes, are you?”

“There’s not much use in denying the situation,” Jadzia pointed out, “so why not laugh a little about it?”

Lenara tucked a strand of hair behind Jadzia’s hair, her face betraying conflicting emotions. “Perhaps you’re right.”

Jadzia’s suggestion won her over in the end, and they spent the early afternoon climbing the steep path to the fortress. It was as imposing as Jadzia remembered, built with the local orange and yellow sandstone that characterized so much of Thursvyl, it towered over the bay and the city below by standing on top of a rock outcropping. The fortress’ only access point was a small bridge, which made it seem huge and eerie in its emptiness, not that the overcast sky was helping matters. Jadzia couldn’t blame the tourists for electing to remain in the city proper today, but at least the monument was entirely at their disposal.

Lenara was waiting for her at the other hand of the bridge, having already crossed it. It was windy at this height, and some of her hair had escaped her braid, but Lenara didn’t look at all bothered neither by walk nor by weather.

“I didn’t think you’d be that quick going up,” Jadzia said, once she was beside Lenara.

“I think you’re mistaking me for somebody else,” Lenara replied with a smirk, to which Jadzia snorted. Nilani had hated any kind of physical activity, which had been no small source of bickering between her and Torias. “I actually enjoy hiking,” Lenara explained, “Or rather, I used to enjoy it. Work doesn’t often allow me to do it much anymore.”

The incongruous image of Lenara hiking in the middle of a glacier on Trill presented itself in Jadzia’s mind: concentrated on walking despite the fatigue, hair sticking to her temples, breathing hard—

“That’s a pity, now I wish I’d seen you,” Jadzia said with a wide smile.

“Hiking? Well, we could always make our next destination a camping trip, I suppose.”

Jadzia’s grin froze on her face at the mention of their next time together, and could manage only a noncommittal shrug in reply. She wasn’t looking forward to hearing Lenara quantify their relationship in the weeks and light-years they were supposed to spend apart, even more now that Jadzia knew about Lenara’s intention to apply to the Trill Science Ministry. It was likely to become embedded in their time together, this kind of pragmatism, and the thought rankled.

They walked inside the outer fortifications of Thursvyl’s fortress, circling the inner building, exchanging memories of the last time they had been there. Recalling how Curzon had cursed in Klingon during the entire climb under the hot summer sun brightened Jadzia’s mood somewhat, and Lenara’s tale about Nilani promising herself she’d never trust a Rigelian guidebook again made Jadzia laugh out loud. Being with Lenara was never boring or awkward, Jadzia realized as she watched the other woman speak excitedly about Rigelian wall carvings. It was just everything else surrounding them that made their bond so complicated.

They had begun climbing the steps to the ramparts when a deafening thunder made both of them stop in their tracks. Fat raindrops began splashing on the dusty courtyard, and they looked at each other with mild panic.

“This way,” Jadzia said, grabbing Lenara’s hand and bolting towards the carved gate that separated the courtyard from the inner fortress.

They reached the shelter just in time, the deluge starting in earnest only as Jadzia leaned with her back against the cool stones. She laughed, the sound drowned almost entirely by the rainfall, but not enough for Lenara not to join her.

“I don’t think the inner fortress is open to visits today,” Lenara said, eyeing the heavy, metal-covered gate. It was closed shut.

“That’s just our luck,” Jadzia said, shaking her head. “I guess we should’ve consulted a Rigelian guidebook after all.”

Lenara smirked. “Or at least read the weather forecast. We’ll have to wait here until the rain lets out now.”

They were standing close, the limited cover imposing them to share the same space; Jadzia could’ve sworn she felt the heat radiating from Lenara. If they’d been inside their little apartment, Jadzia would’ve already enveloped Lenara in her arms and brought her closer, and kissed her. The fact that they were out in the open, even if ostensibly alone, made her hesitate.

Lenara had been watching her, but suddenly her expression darkened, and she leaned back against the gate, arms crossed on her chest.

“Do you ever think— about whether what we’re doing is wrong?”

Lenara’s voice had been little more than murmur, and hadn’t been looking at her while she spoke. It took a few moments for Jadzia to parse what she had said, and when she did an uncomfortable chill settled on her shoulders, like her clothes had actually been soaked with the rain that was falling around them.

“I thought about it, while you were on DS9.” Jadzia answered in an equally low voice, keeping her eyes on the ground without really seeing it. “It wasn’t a walk in the park, realizing that part of me wanted to break the taboo, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“And now?”

Jadzia glanced at Lenara. “I don’t think that what we’re doing is hurting anyone, or that reassociating is hurting us either. The consequences of other people finding out about us might, but  _ we _ are not causing any harm.”

“Aren’t we, though. Aren’t we hindering our symbionts’ growth by being together?” Lenara had a sour look on her face, like the words were unpleasant for her to say out loud. “You know we’re supposed to live as many new experiences as we can.”

“I’m not so sure about that anymore, not in a literal sense anyway,” Jadzia said. “Who is to say if a life has been sufficiently different from all the ones that have come before? After so many hosts, I’m beginning to wonder if a comparison between them is ever even possible. Plus, if you think about it— reassociation is a new experience for both of us, isn’t it?”

Lenara pressed her lips together at that last remark but didn’t reply, which Jadzia was inclined to consider a victory. She contemplated pressing to find out if there was a point to this discussion; the rain gave no indication that it would stop any time soon, and if they had to lay things out in the open it might as well be right now, while they waited for the weather to let up.

“It’s hard to come up with a justification for what I’m doing, after abiding to the rules for so long,” Lenara said, interrupting Jadzia’s musings.

“Maybe it’s the rules that are wrong.”

Lenara looked over at her, bitterness clear on her face. “Does it matter, when everyone else believes that they are there for good reasons?”

“It matters to me. I know there’s nothing deviant about me or about us, and I won’t let centuries-old traditions change my mind just because everyone else accepts them uncritically,” Jadzia retorted.

Lenara lowered her eyes. “Maybe you’re right. I spent too much time overthinking this back on Trill.”

“I’m sorry you’re having such a rough time with this back home,” Jadzia said, wishing she’d remembered the full context of Lenara’s situation sooner.

“It’s not your fault. It was Bejal first, the way he talked about us—” Lenara closed her eyes, shuddering. “And then I decided to find out what happened to the joined people who were banished. I had nightmares for weeks, about being brought in front of the Symbiosis Commission and be called an unacceptable aberration while the whole planet watched. Sometimes you were there with me and that was even worse.” Lenara looked up at Jadzia. “I don’t want to be the cause of your exile.”

Gently, Jadzia took Lenara’s hands in her own. They were cold and clammy, like that last day on DS9 when they had been so close to fatally misunderstand each other.

“Even if that happened you wouldn’t be the cause, the Commission would.” She paused, squeezing Lenara’s hands lightly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there with you while you went through that. You shouldn’t be alone in this.”

Lenara shook her head. “At least by staying separated this way we can actually meet in person, and write to each other.”

“Well then, write to me? I’ve missed you so much these last few months, and I know there’s always a risk that our correspondence could be discovered, but with our precautions—”

Lenara shook her head. “I wasn’t just scared of being discovered. I wasn’t even sure you’d still want this, with the way I left and the time it actually took me to get back to you.”

“I was afraid too, that you had changed your mind, or that someone was preventing you to contact me. I was so relieved after I got your message. I hope you know now that I want to be with you, Lenara, no matter how difficult it is.”

Lenara looked down at their linked hands. “I want the same thing. But it is hard to believe that it will end well sometimes. You’re so far away, often involved in dangerous tasks— and then there’s the taboo.” She looked up, making eye-contact with Jadzia with a deadly serious expression. “I can’t forget the way you took off on that Starfleet shuttle, only to return as a lifeless body. And how easy it was to get seriously hurt, even on the Defiant. If something happened to you I wouldn’t even have the opportunity to tell you goodbye.”

“I’m not dead yet, nor do I have any intention to die. I’m not going to repeat the same mistakes. I regretted my choices for too long before we met again, and I don’t want to put you through that one more time.” Jadzia paused, holding Lenara’s hand tightly. “Can you trust me on this? That I’ll do everything in my power to not waste this chance we have?”

Lenara had a rueful expression on her face. “I do trust you, Dax. I just wish I had the same confidence you have.”

“It’s hard to have any when you’re so isolated from everyone who supports us,” Jadzia pointed out. “Please— will you at least try to write to me? I know that it’s better to be safe than sorry but what good is it if you’re so miserable?”

Lenara just nodded in reply, and Jadzia let her hands go so she could gather her thoughts at her own pace. She hoped Lenara would agree with her: they obviously needed to talk more than what the two short days they spent together had allowed them to do. The closeness they’d built while on this remote planet was still so brittle, and Jadzia didn’t want to lose it under their combined doubts and months without any kind of contact.

She directed her attention towards the downpour around them. It didn’t seem at all inclined to let up and allow the two of them to leave the dry zone under the gate arch without getting completely soaked. There was a distinct chill in the air now, and Jadzia crossed her arms over her chest to not shiver. There was little warmth to be found in the stones she was leaning against.

She noticed the weight of Lenara’s hand on her shoulder first, and when Jadzia turned her head she found her standing close, their bodies not quite touching, Lenara’s grey eyes searching her face. The iridescence of her spots was hardly noticeable under the poor lighting, making her expression subdued, but her closeness still took Jadzia’s breath away. She shivered again, but she suspected it wasn’t the cold this time around.

“I’m sorry,” Lenara said. “I’m aware that I’m making things more difficult for myself, and for you as well, by having so many doubts and imposing so many restrictions. Maybe— with a less-hastily put together encryption I would feel better about contacting you more often.”

Jadzia grinned in relief. “I’m sure that the two of us together can come up with something almost airtight. Plus, Kira gave me a very interesting rundown of the techniques she used in the Bajoran resistance to fake subspace signatures and scrambling frequency.”

Lenara lifted an eyebrow. “Did she? That does sound useful, but I’d feel awkward about using her suggestions for our— much more mundane reasons.”

“Don’t worry about it. Kira has been one of the most supportive people on the station, and she offered to teach me before I even had a chance to ask.”

Lenara lowered her head, not quite managing to hide her amused smile. “It sounds like your colleagues are cheering on us.”

“I wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for their help.” She leaned in so she could whisper in Lenara’s ear. “Julian was the one who helped me with the human disguise, you know. Clothes included.”

Lenara laughed at that, and the sound made the rain and the chill disappear.

“This is cosmic justice for that evening when I basically ignored him entirely. Please send Dr. Bashir my apologies, I still cringe at how callous we’ve been.”

“I think he was resigned to the fact that there was little he could do to interrupt us, but I can tell him you said so if it makes you happy.”

Lenara’s eyes crinkled. “You should tell me more about your friends. I regret having met them only briefly while on the station.”

“I’d love to,” Jadzia said, knowing she was beaming and not caring one bit if it showed. “There is still so much I want to tell you. It feels like we have barely scratched the surface while we were together.”

“I know. I haven’t told you everything either. But I— don’t entirely mind the way we spent our time here.”

“I don’t think I mind either,” Jadzia murmured, a smile tugging at her lips. She sneaked an arm around Lenara’s hips and leaned in again towards her again. “I’ve been dying to kiss you ever since it started raining.”

Lenara glanced furtively around the courtyard, then back to Jadzia. “Looks like we’re on our own,” she said in an equally soft voice.

Heart beating madly, Jadzia slowly closed the distance between them. Lenara’s lips were soft and inviting and as she brought her closer, hands on her back and cupping her jaw, Jadzia was melting. All their differences and all the obstacles between them were trivial and meaningless while they kissed like this, out in the open, daring to the galaxy to say it was wrong.

When the rain finally stopped and they stepped outside their little alcove, Jadzia took the time to breathe in the fresh air left by the storm. She rolled her shoulders, feeling more composed and self-possessed than she had been since leaving DS9. Lenara was at her side, looking at her with curiosity. Jadzia held out a hand for her, and when Lenara took it they began their descent towards the city.

* * *

Lenara didn’t say a word as she watched Jadzia apply the concealing patina to her spots, but it wasn’t hard to guess what she thought of the whole process just by looking at her face. It became increasingly harder to not laugh at Lenara’s reflection in the mirror, until Jadzia couldn’t take it anymore and turned around towards her.

“You have the look of someone who’s seen a ghost.”

“It is kind of— unnerving to realize how easy it is for us to look like humans,” Lenara said, lifting an eyebrow. “Makes me wonder.”

“About what?”

“What if we’ve been surveilled after all, by someone who had the same idea as you?”

Jadzia frowned, and reached out for Lenara to come closer. When she did, she took Lenara’s hands in her own.

“We haven’t been followed. I’ve been careful, and looked around every time we went out. Nobody knows I’m here, or that the person that’s here with you is Jadzia Dax.”

Lenara bowed her head, eyes closed. “I know you’ve done all you could. But if it wasn’t enough after all?”

The hole that formed in Jadzia’s chest every time Lenara fretted was becoming a familiar presence. Jadzia had no answer to her question, so she enveloped Lenara with her arms, hugging her tightly.

“Nothing is going wrong,” Jadzia murmured, even if she knew that what she was saying was poor comfort. “And even if something happened you have a way to reach out to me on DS9. I will be at your side.”

Lenara just nodded in reply, holding her tighter. Jadzia closed her eyes, overwhelmed; their history with goodbyes was riddled with misunderstandings and lost chances, and trying to hold her ground in the face of whatever came next for them was going to take all that she had.

It was going to be different this time. She had to believe it.

“Write to me as soon as you get on Trill, alright?”

Lenara leaned back to look at her, her face betraying a sadness that only made Jadzia want to envelop her in her arms again. “I don’t want to go back. But I can’t run away, either.”

Jadzia brushed away the tears on Lenara’s cheeks with her thumbs. “I know.”

They hugged again, both of them unwilling to let go. For one last time, Jadzia tried to memorize the way Lenara fit in her arms, praying silently that her symbiont would help her remember it in the months they would spend apart.

She didn’t want to leave Rigel IV on such a gloomy note, however.

“Did you know that once I didn’t even need to hide the spots to pass as human while I was on Earth?”

Lenara leaned back a little. “What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

“They thought I was just a very eccentric human who liked to decorate my skin with ink.”

“With  _ ink _ ? How did they not realize you were Trill?”

Jadzia chuckled. “It’s a long story, and it actually involves time travel.”

“Now you’re just making fun of me,” Lenara replied with a glare.

“Not at all. It’s a bit of a long story, but I think I have time to tell you about it before I have to leave.”

“It better be a good one, because I’m still not sure I believe you.”

“Oh it is. You can ask Julian or Benjamin about it, when you see them again, they’ll confirm everything.” She grinned, taking in Lenara’s skeptical expression. “You see, we were on the Defiant headed for Earth, but when we tried to beam down on the surface there was a strange interaction between the transporter and the ship’s cloaking device—”

* * *

The journey back promised to be much less eventful than the way there had been, and not just because the Vulcan crew of the survey ship she had boarded wasn’t inclined favorably towards gambling. Eidetic memory had never appealed to her, and she doubted any joined Trill would think differently; the weight of seven lifetimes other than her own threatened to submerge her already at times. Yet here Jadzia was, mildly envying her travel companions, wishing that her dual nervous system allowed her to recall everything like she was inside a holoprogram of her immediate past.

Jadzia turned in her hands the pair of earrings that Lenara had given to her months before on DS9. She had meant to wear them at least once while on Rigel IV, but they ended up being forgotten at the bottom of her bag, where she’d found them while looking for her combadge. Now that she was alone, it was all too easy to read into it a symbol of her relationship with Lenara. They both had so much baggage, and so little time to spend together, that even important things that should be acknowledged kept remaining at the bottom of their priorities.

If only they could just be together without having to hide. If only they could live together without repercussions. If only their careers weren’t so different that they could at least be in the same place more often without arousing suspicion. If only. Jadzia closed her fist around the earrings, squeezing until it hurt. For how long she’d have to settle for half promises and encrypted text messaged? How long could they keep up this way?

She looked at the black expanse out of the little porthole in her cabin and huffed. Her problems were still insignificant in comparison to the rest of the universe. And correspondence that traveled unnoticed hundreds of light-years to reach Lenara was still an amazing feat of engineering. She already itched to put to the test the encryption they had come up with together.

Her hand slacked, and she packed her earrings back into her bag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot? I don't know her.
> 
>  _rhyzan_ is a made up name for the long tunics most Trill seem to favor on DS9 (with the exception of Jadzia, who apparently sees nothing wrong in borrowing her clothes from Julian)


End file.
